


Connection

by SharpestRose



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, a Jedi Padawan met a Force-sensitive slave. Then some stuff happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connection

_Ten Years Ago_

Insofar as droids can look sceptical, the waitress looks sceptical. "Whaddaya want Dex for?"

"He's not in trouble, it's personal," Obi-Wan assures her.

"Well, he ain't here, anyway. You can wait around if it's important."

"I'll wait."

Obi-Wan moves to sit down in a booth, pausing mid-stride when one of the deep spacers sitting at the counter looks up from his late breakfast and says "Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan studies the face of the young man. Tanned, fair-haired, he has the sharp humour of most of the diner's regulars lurking in his expression. "You don't remember me, do you? You saved my life ten years ago."

The accent's an outer-rim one, with notes marking time spent on a dozen systems.

"Anakin Skywalker?" Obi-Wan guesses, his polite smile broadening into genuine happiness. "I seem to remember that we saved each other. Come, sit with me. You did become a pilot, I see."

Anakin nods, smiling proudly. "A damn good one, if I may say so. And you became a Jedi."

"A passable one, I hope," replies Obi-Wan. "What brings you to Coruscant?"

Anakin looks down at the scratched tabletop, a blush rising under his tan. "A dream." He meets Obi-Wan's gaze. "I saw Amidala in trouble."

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

A Toydarian. Just his luck.

Obi-Wan permits himself a small frown before smoothing his face into businesslike politeness and approaching the shopkeeper. "I'm after hypderdrive parts. J-type, for a ship in the 325-330 series if possible."

The Toydarian scratches one foot with the other thoughtfully, hovering behind the counter. "Parts like that, they ain't cheap. Can you pay, or are you wasting my valuable time?"

Sabé mutters something about nothing in this place looking valuable, but she does it quietly enough that only Obi-Wan hears. He presses his lips together in a courteous smile. "We have republic credits."

The Toydarian shakes his head. "No good."

"And... outland clothing and tools for barter?" Obi-Wan tries. "The clothing is of just the kind favoured by the Hutts." He keeps his voice as neutral as he can, and is glad that Sabé's own diplomatic education keeps her from muttered comments about the Hutts' well-known liking for dolled-up slave girls.

"Hmm. Mebbe, mebbe. You got 'em here?"

"Not with us, but we can bring them back before nightfall."

"No you can't," a young voice pipes up from the doorway leading to the junkyard. It's a fair-haired boy, his worn tunic smeared with engine grease. "There's a sandstorm coming. You'll need shelter."

The Toydarian begins to scold the boy in rapid Huttese. _"If you're so worried about their safety, then you take them in and share your rations, idiot. It's not our concern if they slice themselves to ribbons on the wind."_

The boy shrugs. _"You'll never get your payment if they bleed all over the fabrics,"_ he says coolly.

 _"Then take them, and tell your mother that it's your big mouth that's cheated her out of food yet again."_

Obi-Wan guesses, from the Toydarian's cruel smirk and the boy's repeated shrugging gesture, that the child is a slave, one with a tendency towards contrariness. He can't help but hope the boy doesn't have that trait worn out of him; being apprenticed to Qui-Gon has taught Obi-Wan the frustrating but undeniable merits of a little defiance from time to time.

"C'mon, we should get going before the winds pick up," the boy says to Obi-Wan and Sabé now. "My name's Anakin, what're yours?"

\--

 _Ten Years Ago_

Obi-Wan blinks in surprise. "You dreamt of the Senator in danger?"

"Yes. Is she all right? Did something happen?"

"She's all right," Obi-Wan says, tone warning to leave the subject alone.

Anakin doesn't look mollified, but leaves his questions unsaid for the time being. Instead, he says, "You got yourself a new hand, I see."

Obi-Wan taps the fingertips against the table. "It took some getting used to. But I want to hear about your life. Tell me what's happened since we last saw one another."

The smile on Anakin's face is happy and grateful; surprisingly unguarded. "Shortly after you left, a man named Cliegg Lars moved into one of the old moisture farms. They don't run much of a profit, but they're more regular than any town work on the offering. He... fell in love with Mom, and ended up buying us both so that he could marry her."

"Is that so?" Obi-Wan asks, doing his best to keep his own smile from becoming a smirk. "That was lucky."

"Yes," Anakin manages to say without laughing, before settling back into another easy smile. "We still have the droids, and my brother met a girl whose family couldn't afford to keep a spinster; she's living on the farm too. With so many hands to help him now, Cleigg barely bothers telling me off for wasting my life chasing the stars. I mostly do freight work, sometimes transport and bodyguarding. "

"It sounds like things turned out quite well. I'm glad for you, Anakin."

"I owe it to you," Anakin says simply, and puts his own hand atop Obi-Wan's.

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

  
When the wind dies down, the night sky is strikingly clear. For all his years of journeyman travel since, a childhood at the temple on brightly lit Coruscant was enough to give Obi-Wan a deep appreciation for unclouded stars, and he looks up at them in quiet contentment for a while before pulling out his communicator.

"Master, we've made some headway with one of the local merchants. We'll come back to collect the Queen's wardrobe and some spare parts tomorrow. Hopefully, it won't be long before we can be on our way."

Qui-Gon clears his throat. "Perhaps it would be worth you having another look at the hyperdrive when you come back. Just to make sure you remembered the damage correctly."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows knit in confusion for a moment. "I was quite careful in my examination…" Then understanding dawns. "Oh, Master, he _didn't_."

"Jar Jar was only trying to be helpful."

"I'm going to find a Sarlaac pit and feed it tiny pieces of Gungan for days." Obi-Wan sighs. "Why can't you ever find useful strays, Master?"

"Now, Obi-Wan, if I did that, then you'd have nothing to complain about."

"How bad is the damage?"

"Not much more than it was, I think, but -- as you so helpfully reminded me, when I suggested that I should be the one to visit the settlement -- I don't know a hyperdrive from a garbage compactor."

"I'll take a look at it tomorrow. Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan."

"Obi-Wan, sir?"

Obi-Wan shuts off the commlink and puts it back on his belt. "Hello, Anakin. I was just admiring the stars out here."

"I'm gonna see them all, someday," Anakin said, climbing up to sit on the low wall beside Obi-Wan. "I'm a pilot. And a podracer. Mom hates it when I race, but I love it. I'm building a racer of my own."

"That's a very dangerous sport. You should be careful."

"I guess. Can I see your laser sword?"

Obi-Wan smiles in surprise. "When did you notice that?"

"Earlier. Are you a Jedi Knight?"

"No, not yet. I'm a student."

"Wizard," Anakin says softly. "That's so…" He seems at a loss for words. "Wizard. Do you have magic powers?"

Obi-Wan pulls out his lightsaber, demonstrating the way it's balanced to fit neatly into his palm. If he could, he'd turn it on and show off a little for the boy, but to do so would be a risk they can't afford. "I have powers, but they're not magic. Some people are born with the potential to manipulate the Force, just like some people are born with an especially good memory, or sharp eyesight. If you can race pods, you probably have it a little bit, too."

"Really?" Anakin's eyes go wide as saucers. "My mom says I'm special, but I always figured that was just because moms are supposed to say that."

Obi-Wan gives Anakin a long look. His mission is to fix the hyperdrive, not to free slaves, but a little incidental work never hurt anybody. "There's a trick I might be able to teach you, if you're a Force-sensitive. Would you like to learn it?"

Anakin's eyes, seemingly impossibly, get even wider. Eventually, he manages a wordless nod. Obi-Wan grins.

As if on-cue, Anakin's mother calls from inside. "Ani! Time for bed! Did you ask our guest the question I sent you out there for?"

Anakin's awe vanishes, slipping into guilt. "Oops. I'm supposed to ask you about sleeping arrangements, 'cause Miss Sabé said that the two of you could share the bedroll on the floor by the heater, but Mom wasn't sure if that was okay with you."

Obi-Wan smiles. He'd known that she was forthright from the moment he'd overheard the argument between her and the Queen. The words "with all due respect, my lady, I cannot allow you to continue using our security system as an excuse to distract yourself from worries with wild adventures" had seemed like as good an example as any for getting the measure of her. One didn't become a royal bodyguard at eighteen by being timid, after all.

"No, that's fine," Obi-Wan answers.

Anakin looks vaguely repulsed. Growing up as a slave on a system controlled by the Hutts would be enough to leave anyone with a disgust for sexuality.

"There's nothing wrong with consensual pleasure." Obi-Wan tries not to sound like he's lecturing. "Such occasions are a chance for connection and release, and harm nobody."

Anakin purses his lips, giving this new idea careful thought. "I guess."

"It's late. You should get to bed. We've got a long walk to the ship tomorrow, and I'll teach you that Force-trick I was telling you about."

With an excited nod, Anakin jumps down from his place on the wall. "Okay! G'night!"

\---

 _Ten Years Ago_

"So what about you?" Anakin asks, not moving his hand away. "Do you have a Padawan?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "I don't think I'm suited to being a teacher."

"Oh, I disagree with you on that," Anakin says, voice serious and sincere.

"Well, perhaps one day," Obi-Wan concedes.

"How's Master Qui-Gon?"

"He died three years ago. A rockslide."

"I'm sorry. I know the two of you were very close."

With a smile, trying to ease Anakin's obvious sympathy, Obi-Wan shakes his head. "It's all right. We love, and then we let go. That's the way of the Jedi."

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

Leaving the Queen and her handmaidens to sort through their wardrobes for the most useful trade items, Obi-Wan braves the task of examining the full extent of Jar Jar's help with the hyperdrive. The damage seems, for the most part, to be minor, but more than enough has gone wrong on the mission already without corners being cut in repairs.

Since there's little to do until they have the necessary parts, Obi-Wan seeks out his Master. Surrounded by holos and data reports beamed from Naboo, Qui-Gon looks about as content as a disgruntled Wookie.

"There's quite a large podrace today," Obi-Wan offers by way of distraction. "The whole town is swept up in weighing odds and betting."

"That'll work to our advantage. Those who win big will be flush with money, and more likely to buy pretty things."

"I think we might have to part with a droid. The generator needs almost all of its core systems replaced."

Qui-Gon sighs. "All right. I'll speak to the Queen."

"There's something else, Master. I met a young slave whom I believe may have some Force sensitivity. He's talking to the pilot at the moment, or was when I last saw him. I would... I'd like your permission to train him in basic mind trickery."

Qui-Gon quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't interrupt.

"This is a wretched place for even the wealthiest of settlers," Obi-Wan goes on. "And the boy has nobody but his mother. I'd like to give him a fighting chance, at least. If you don't feel I'm ready to teach him, then I'd be grateful if you could do so instead."

Qui-Gon begins to shake his head, and Obi-Wan's heart sinks until he notices his Master's smile.

"No, I think you're more than able to educate the boy, if you feel this is the right course of action to take."

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan grins, ducking into a hurried bow before leaving Qui-Gon to his holos and reports.

Anakin is outside, examining the ship's bright casing, squinting against the brightness of the day.

"I don't even mind missing the race for this," he confesses to Obi-Wan. "This is great."

"Come sit over here in the shade." Obi-Wan leads him over to a spot of relative dimness under the ship's wing. "Now, tell me what you've heard about mind control."

Anakin's brow furrows in thought for a moment. "It's where you change people's thoughts to make them do what you want."

"Not quite. You can't influence a person's thoughts; another being's consciousness is too complicated for even the cleverest Jedi to reorder. What you _can_ do is alter their point of view. Persuade them to see the world a different way. Jar Jar, come over here!"

Jar Jar lopes over, grinning. "Heya, Obi."

"Hello," Obi-Wan says, sternly reminding himself that Qui-Gon would be upset if Jar Jar suddenly came down with a bad case of lightsaber impalement. "Jar Jar, you want to spin around in a circle until you fall over."

Jar Jar begins spinning, ears flapping wildly. Anakin laughs.

"Jar Jar, stop."

Jar Jar falls over and picks himself up carefully, swaying a little.

"Now you do it," Obi-Wan says to Anakin. "And remember, you want to change his perceptions, not his thoughts."

"Okay," Anakin says, a look of concentration steeling his young features. "Jar Jar, stand on your head."

Jar Jar flips down into a handstand.

"One handed," Anakin suggests. Jar Jar complies.

"A Gungan is easier to control than a human, but the principle remains the same. It won't work on a Toydarian, unfortunately, but I'm sure you come into contact with many other races."

"You think I can make someone nicer buy me and my mom," Anakin states. Obi-Wan nods.

"Yes."

"Sounds good to me. Ooops, sorry Jar Jar! You can sit down now."

\---

 _Ten Years Ago_

"Perhaps you can help me. I'm trying to trace the origin of this." Obi-Wan shows Anakin the mystery dart.

"This?" Anakin peers at it. "From the notches, I'd guess it's from the cloners. Wouldn't have expected to see one of these on Coruscant, that's for sure. Not many people go to, or come from, those systems. I'd've been surprised if even Dex knew where this was from."

"Good thing I ran into you, then," Obi-Wan remarks.

"Lucky for both of us," Anakin agrees. "Look, I know this sounds silly, but... Could I come see the Jedi temple? I can't count the number of times I've sat listening to old barflies spin yarns about the daring escapes and brave feats of the Knights. I wanted to be one, as a child... it was right after pilot, pirate, racer, and space adventurer on my list."

Obi-Wan laughs. "Illustrious company. I imagine a number of the Council would be entertained by such a collection of dreams."

"Well, I wanted to be an ordinary freighter captain, too, but that doesn't sound nearly so impressive."

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

"I was beginning to wonder if anything was capable of quietening him," Obi-Wan says, watching from a distance as Anakin stammers and mumbles in an effort to reply to the Queen.

"He does seem rather struck, doesn't he?" Qui-Gon agrees. "Perhaps it was the will of the Force that the two of them should meet."

"Surely Qui-Gon Jinn isn't contemplating the future?"

"Maybe I should use you for barter, rather than the Queen's clothing and a droid. You work hard, even if you do talk too much."

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Yes, Master."

"You don't think there's a connection between them?"

"I think Anakin's enchanted by her. And who wouldn't be, living in poverty and meeting royalty? But he doesn't see her as a person; she's a symbol."

"You seem so certain."

"Sabé is enough alike the Queen that one can stand in for the other when need requires it. But Anakin met Sabé when she was dressed as a poor trader, and treated her with nothing beyond the basic friendliness he seems to have for all he meets."

"You think if he had met the Queen in such a circumstance, he wouldn't have looked twice?"

"Truths can often be obscured by ideas, Master. Anakin's besotted with an idea."

"I can think of someone else who sees an idea rather than the truth," Qui-Gon replies, eyes smiling. "But you are certainly right about one thing; the future will take care of itself."

\---

 _Ten Years Ago_

"I'm tempted to remark upon your skills at winning friends and influencing people," Obi-Wan says when they reach his quarters, after a short but entertaining tour of the temple.

Anakin smirks. "The influencing people I'll credit to you, Obi-Wan, but I don't know if I'd say I was very good at winning friends. Jabba and Gardulla have remarked more than once that my business practises are not quite to their taste."

"Well, I've certainly never seen Yoda declare someone a friend so fast before. If I'd known that all it took was a promise to bring by fresh Rootleaf the next time I was on-planet, I might have saved myself a bruised shin or two in childhood."

"Almost everyone has something they want. Even Jedi," Anakin answers, glancing around the room. "Taken some decorating tips from the moons of Sparta, have we?"

"Minimalism is considered to be quite stylish at the moment." Obi-Wan sniffs, pretending to be slighted.

"Whatever you say."

"Tea?" Obi-Wan asks, moving over to the small kitchen area.

"No, thank you. Obi-Wan, please tell me the truth. Is Senator Amidala all right?"

Obi-Wan frowns, spoon poised mid-air between his mug and the canister of sweetener. "For now. I'll breathe easier when she's in hiding."

"I can think of a dozen systems where she'd be well-concealed. I've had to hide people before."

"Hmm." Obi-Wan carries his mug over to the large window, looking out at the view which has caught Anakin's attention. "I had hoped to arrange Jedi protection for her, but our resources are stretched thin lately. Having you near her might be the next best thing. I'll ask the Council about it tomorrow... That is, if you're sure you want to get involved in political intrigue."

Anakin shrugs. "I've got nothing better to do this week."

"Well, it's your choice. Personally, the less politicians I meet, the better I consider the day to be." Obi-Wan smiles, and takes a sip of his tea. There's a little too much sweetener in it.

Anakin is quiet for long enough that Obi-Wan puts his drink down on the window's sill and touches Anakin's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

"Choices. My choices. That's what you gave me. I never had any power to decide anything before I met you," Anakin says softly. "I've hoped so many times of the years that I'd meet you again someday, Obi-Wan." He turns, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. "So I could thank you."

"Anakin, you don't have to -"

"I know. I don't _have_ to do anything unless I wish to. And I owe that freedom to you."

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

"I'll take super-good care of you," Anakin promises the R2 unit, getting a series of chirrups in reply. "It'll be great; you can meet my protocol droid. I'm making him to help my mom."

Another series of beeps, one which Obi-Wan was sure expressed a particular opinion of protocol droids.

"You think Watto will be happy with the deal?" Obi-Wan asks Anakin, mentally debating with himself whether it would have been better to wear his cloak and endured the extra heat for a little shade. Sunburn makes him irritable, and his mood is fraying enough on this mission as it is.

"Oh, sure. He loves droids, he just can't control 'em without my help. If someone else buys me, they'll have to buy the droids too, 'cause Watto won't know what to do if I'm not there."

A dull buzzing sound reaches them, a black dot becoming visible on the horizon and approaching fast. Obi-Wan's eyes widen. "Anakin, run back to the ship! Get Qui-Gon!"

The speeder zooms close, the black-robed rider leaping off in a wide arc. Obi-Wan doesn't have time to consciously acknowledge the long-bladed lightsaber in the creature's hand before they're engaged in battle.

"Anakin! _RUN!_ " Obi-Wan shouts again, parrying a succession of blows before flipping out of range. He's never fought so furiously in all his life.

The creature -- the Sith, Obi-Wan knows it with the certainty of a nightmare -- bares its teeth at him, striking him hard in the jaw with the butt of his 'Saber. Stunned, Obi-Wan stumbles, but a cry of warning from Anakin brings him back to himself enough to block the stab aimed at his chest.

The Sith whirls, noticing Anakin for the first time, and Obi-Wan takes the split-second's chance to sweep a wide slash through the creature's chest.

Eyes wide with pain and surprise, it turns halfway through the move, wrist flicking out for one final attack as it dies. Obi-Wan's own arm flares with a burst of pain bright enough to make him scream despite himself.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin cries out, racing to his side. "Oh no, your hand…"

Looking down at the wounded space where his hand used to be, Obi-Wan finds himself thinking that, even if his Jedi career is completely unremarkable for the rest of his life, he at least has the dubious distinction of being the first Jedi wounded by a Sith in over a millennium.

\--

 _Ten Years Ago_

"Does it have sensation?" Anakin asks, examining the synth-skin on Obi-Wan's hand intently. Running his fingertips across the palm and down the wrist, to where the mechanism joins flesh and bone, he shifts a little to sit up against the pillows. "Can you feel me touching it now?"

"A little. About the equivalent of what a callus on a bare foot might feel of the ground. The technology is very new, and quite a bother." Obi-Wan contemplates sitting up as well, then decides that the universe probably won't end if he allows himself a few more minutes' morning lie-in. "I almost miss simply wearing a glove over the metal skeleton."

"So why bother at all, then?" Anakin's wandering touch strays further up Obi-Wan's arm, eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. "You feel _still_ , did you know that? In the Force. Like a rock in a river, being shaped by the world but not carried along on the currents."

"Does that line work on many Jedi?" Obi-Wan asks, the compliment earning a grin.

"I'm already in your bed," Anakin points out helpfully. "So I don't really have any higher ground to gain. And you didn't answer my question."

"Why bother?"

"Yes."

"Because I want to feel all that I can," Obi-Wan answers simply, curling the hand in question around the back of Anakin's neck, pulling Anakin's mouth down against his own.

\---

 _Eight Years Ago_

Naboo is just as tranquil as it was twelve years earlier, and Obi-Wan is just as unable to pause and appreciate its loveliness.

Anakin's skin is a little paler and his hair a little darker, as if to make up for the loss of desert tan, and he greets Obi-Wan with a warm hug.

"I believe you've met my wife?" he asks with all the pride an awe of a newlywed, though the pair of them must be approaching their second anniversary by now.

Obi-Wan bows. "Amidala."

She shakes her head and smiles. "No, just Padmé now. Local politics doesn't require the honorific."

"Your trade treaty work has kept your system safe from the worst of the war. You should be proud."

"Thank you. It's good to see you again."

"I only wish I could have come for a happier reason," Obi-Wan says ruefully. "Is there somewhere the three of us can talk?"

"Of course. I've put aside a conference room in the civic hall," Padmé motions for them to follow her.

"I heard of your mother's death," Obi-Wan says to Anakin as they walk. "I'm so sorry."

Anakin shrugs. "Ah, no you're not. Jedi don't mourn like other people do; everyone knows that. It's all right."

"Believe that I'm sorry for your own sorrow and pain, if nothing else."

"Well, for that I thank you," Anakin replies softly, his pace slowing a little. "It was... a very difficult time. I had dreams foretelling her death, but they came too late to save her. I... I wanted to see those who had hurt her suffer, worse than she had suffered. I fear I'm quite a bloodthirsty tyrant, in my heart of hearts. I almost did terrible things."

"But you didn't. You didn't give into the desire for revenge. It's not what we feel, it's what we do that matters."

"My goodness isn't my own. I let them live because I knew that if I hurt them, my mother's ideals would die just as her body had. Because Owen and Beru deserve a world where at least some beings see the merits of mercy. Because Padmé was there to temper me. Because you taught me to use my abilities to help and protect those whose hope is gone."

Obi-Wan thinks for several paces before answering. "The Jedi believe in connection between all things. You are made up of those things which influence and shape you, yes, but the bad as well as the good. Your heartache and rage were caused by those around you as surely as your decision not to give in to those things was. When anger and hate would have been understandable, if not condonable, reactions, you rose above them."

"It really is a pity you don't have a Padawan, Obi-Wan."

"So I've been told," Obi-Wan answers mildly.

"No, I mean it. I don't think I've ever told you what it was like, that day in the desert. When we were attacked. That... thing made me feel like I was drowning. In fury, and distraction, and terror. I felt like the air was full of smoke." Anakin takes a deep breath, as if to remind himself that Naboo's air is clear of such things. "And then you were there, like a clear wind, like a rock in a river. And the confusion went away. You were so brave and fearless."

"Brave _and_ fearless, is it? I was a tautology?"

"Stop avoiding the subject. You should have students. They deserve to learn from you."

They lapse into silence, still following Padmé through Naboo's sunlit streets.

Obi-Wan wants to tell Anakin that he's wrong, that he doesn't see the truth behind the hero-worship.

Because Obi-Wan knows wholeheartedly how far from fearless he truly is. How the thought of bestowing his trust and affection on a Padawan fills him with coiling dread. It was harder than he'll ever admit to anyone to farewell Qui-Gon, and even now that Anakin is an adult it's difficult for Obi-Wan to dispel the protectiveness he feels.

He has meditated on this fear of loss in his heart; such emotion is particularly damaging when it prevents the forming of any connections at all. But it remains nonetheless.

The conference room is small and tastefully appointed, but the three of them barely notice as they sit down.

"What's this about?" Padmé asks, and Obi-Wan suspects from her tone that she knows already.

He takes a deep breath. "The Republican Army would like to recruit you, Anakin."

\---

 _Six Years Ago_

Somewhere along the way, Anakin has collected some impressively vivid scars on his hands and arms. The thin line reaching from eyebrow to cheekbone near his temple makes him look both younger and older than he once did, the toughness of spirit and vulnerability of flesh both on display.

"It is good to see you again," Obi-Wan says sincerely, knowing that his voice and face both betray how exhausted he is.

"Likewise. I'd heard rumours of you death, but…" Anakin shakes his head. "I knew you were alive. I knew I'd know if you weren't."

Obi-Wan doesn't protest the truth of the confession, admitting to himself that he feels similarly about Anakin. He is about to ask how things have been going when Anakin's chin begins to tremble and he turns his face away, blinking down on tears.

"Anakin? What's wrong?"

"I've been dreaming again." Anakin's voice is hoarse. "About Padmé. I saw her dying in childbirth. And now... now she really is pregnant, and I can't... I'm not a Jedi, Obi-Wan. I don't know how to love and let go... I can't lose her."

"Don't take the future as written. She is not dead yet, Anakin, and there's no reason to assume that we can't save her."

"I was wondering if maybe she could stay in the temple. I would feel better if I knew she was protected, somewhere with good medical care." Anakin looks afraid, like he's sure the request will be tactfully rejected.

Obi-Wan doesn't hesitate. "Of course." Seeing Anakin's surprise, he goes on. "You underestimate how much good you have done the Republic in this war, General Skywalker. The Jedi hold you in high esteem, and would be glad to do whatever we can for your family."

\---

 _Twenty Years Ago_

"How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan tries to look serene, then gives up and makes a face. "Nauseous. I think I'm allergic to bacta."

"You're not allergic to bacta," Qui-Gon says absently, checking that the packs of the healing gel bound to Obi-Wan's arm are doing their job.

"I wish I could have said goodbye to Anakin properly. I think I was too woozy to make much sense."

"He told me to tell you that he was glad to have met you. And he helped us install the hyperdrive."

Obi-Wan nods. "I thought he must have. Are we back on course to Coruscant?"

"Yes. Another Jedi team will take over this mission, and we'll stay at the temple while your wound heals and a prosthetic is fitted."

"I'm sorry Master. I know you hate to leave a mission unfinished."

"I'm less bothered by that than I would be by a damaged Padawan getting less than the best of medical care. Now stop talking and rest."

"Yes Master."

"You're ready for the trials, you know."

Obi-Wan smiles. "You tell me to rest, and then give me news like that?"

"Well, it'll give you something to muse on." Qui-Gon's expression becomes serious. "Single-handedly dealing with a Sith Lord aside -"

"It wasn't single-handed; Anakin distracted him. Well, it became single-handed at the end. Or, rather, I did -"

"- _aside_ ," Qui-Gon repeats, showing more patience than he's known for. Obi-Wan considers remarking that maybe he should make a habit of losing limbs, but decides it would probably be better for his long term wellbeing if he stays quiet and lets Qui-Gon talk. "I would still have suggested it was time. You showed resourcefulness and compassion equal to that of any Knight I've known in your dealings with Anakin. You've changed that boy's life, Obi-Wan. I forsee that you'll be a wonderful teacher to many future students."

\---

 _Now_

The day the Empire falls is sunny, so lessons are held in the gardens. Luke and Cindel are complaining about the blast shields on their helmets, as usual, and four of the other children have runny noses, and Leia keeps insisting that her leg is broken despite evidence to the contrary. A quiet morning, as things go.

Obi-Wan is explaining that simply Force-throwing the blast droid into a pond doesn't count as avoiding its fire when a tall, dark-clothed figure steps through the arch leading to the dining area.

"Hello, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan can only imagine how stunned he looks. " _Anakin?_ "

"The one and only."

They hurry towards each other, embracing tightly.

"I was told that you were killed in the purges," Obi-Wan says when they part. Anakin shakes his head.

"I heard the same about you. And there was so much death, I could never be sure what I felt after that…"

Obi-Wan nods. "I know."

"Have you seen the news?"

"Have you heard the _party_?" Obi-Wan retorts, referring to the muted roar coming from the town centre. Naboo's celebrations are small, compared to what's being reported from the more oppressed systems, but the party looks set to rage for days. "It doesn't feel real yet. That it's over."

"It is. I was there," Anakin says, face darkening for a moment. Then he closes his eyes and exhales. "But it's over. That's the important thing."

"You were there?" Obi-Wan asks, leading Anakin away from where the children are gathered in the shade of a tree so that the sounds of conversation won't carry. "All the reports say is that the Emperor and Darth Hiver were killed by a bounty hunter working without a bounty -- for 'the good of the galaxy' -- and that Bail Organa has taken temporary control while the Senate's power is reinstated. Is that what happened? How much of it is propaganda? The people have learned not to believe what they hear without question."

Anakin shakes his head, deflecting the questions, and raises his hand. "Look, we match." He bends the synthetic fingers, one after the other. "I lost my real hand a year ago, to an absolutely charming soul by the name of Boba Fett." His gaze is steady as he meets Obi-Wan's eyes. "He was the last link in the food chain I was climbing."

His face and voice are hard. Weary.

"It was you?" Obi-Wan manages to ask. Anakin gives a curt nod.

"I told you I wasn't good at heart."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Few will shed tears for those you've had to kill."

"That doesn't justify anything."

Obi-Wan can tell already that this is a debate destined to stretch for long years ahead. Anakin might never forgive himself for what he's done, though history is already marking him as a hero for it.

Instead of escalating the argument, he changes the course of their walking back towards the children. "You heard about Padmé, I assume?"

"She died in the attack on the temple. Yes, I heard."

"Whatever consolation it is, she felt little pain."

Anakin shakes his head. "It's no consolation at all. But thanks for the sentiment. I went to the moons of Iego once. Years ago, now. Back soon after the purges. I saw real angels." The hardness of Anakin's face softens with remembered love and sorrow. "And they were nothing, compared to her."

"Did you know that she gave birth before she died?"

Anakin's head jerks up, his expression confused. Like Obi-Wan has begun speaking an exotic language. "What?"

"Luke, Leia, can you come here please?" Obi-Wan calls, two of the children detaching themselves from the group and walking over.

Anakin drops to his knees, looking at the twins with awe and disbelief.

"Hello," he manages to stammer, finally. Leia smiles, and reaches out to touch the side of his face.

"That scar looks like it hurt."

Anakin just stares at her wordlessly, and after a few seconds she laughs. "You're funny. I'm glad to meet you," she offers.

"I'm very glad to meet you, too."

"I'm Luke," Luke says, holding a hand out. "Obi-Wan says I'm a little hellion."

"I said you _behaved_ like a little hellion. There's a difference," Obi-Wan corrects. "This is Anakin."

Luke and Leia both nod. "We know," they say in unison. "Are you going to stay with us?" Leia asks.

Anakin hesitates.

"Yes," Obi-Wan answers. "Now get back to your lessons. We'll be over shortly."

"Don't call me Shortly," Luke giggles, obviously very proud of his joke. Leia rolls her eyes, pulling her brother back over towards the other children.

"I'm staying?" Anakin asks quietly.

"Of course. Who else is going to say 'I told you so' whenever I mention my love of teaching?"

After a long, exhausted moment, Anakin smiles.

The sounds of joy from the city carry over the air, buoyed by warm winds.


End file.
